To Be Used as a Bad Example
by LifelessLil
Summary: When Stiles is changed into a wolf to send a message to Scott, Derek, and the others all hell lets loose when Stiles accidentally kills the wrong Alpha. Now, not only does he have to deal with his new Alpha powers and an Alpha pack with a grudge, he also has to hunt down his actual Alpha if he has any hope of returning to his old life. Developing Sterek
1. Sending a Message

The bite hadn't even fully healed before Stiles' eyes were flashing a dangerous red. A red that matched the blood that soaked his clothes and stained his hands. A red that matched the color of the torn flesh of the body in the opposite corner of the warehouse. Stiles looked at his hands and watched as the claws, his claws, slowly retracted back into the skin, leaving only his normal, human nails behind. He continued to stare, hoping the blood too would disappear. It didn't.

Raising his head, he looked up at his friends, eyes searching for some kind of comfort. He found fear and confusion and a scope of other emotions, but no comfort. Finally his eyes settled on Derek's shocked expression, seeing his own fear and confusion behind it. What little strength was left from the adrenalin and his new wolf-y powers drained from his limbs with that look.

"I- I think I'll just go home now." Stiles sputtered, hoping his disappointment didn't show on his face too much. Scott tried to reach out to him as he made his way to the jeep, but Stiles just brushed his hand away. He needed time. He climbed into the jeep and drove off. No one tried to stop him.

Despite everything- the Alpha pack, the kidnapping, the bite, even him killing another living being -Stiles couldn't help but think about how pissed his dad would be about the damage he'd done (well, the Alphas had done) to his jeep. The thought brought a near hysteric laugh to his lips. An instinct made him look at his speedometer where he noticed he was speeding. Instead of totaling the jeep more by speeding down the rain slick roads, Stiles lifted his foot off the pedal that he hadn't realized he'd been lead-footing.

Pulling into his driveway, it only fit his luck today that his dad's cruiser was sitting in its usual spot. It goes to show how far done he was with this day that he barley hesitated a second before jumping out of the jeep and making his way to the front porch. His dad was on him before he even got the door halfway open.

"Stiles, I have been really patient about this so far, but I am about at my wits end with- Bloody hell! What happened?!" The sheriff's eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of his son covered in blood with slashes running down every part of his body.

Stiles gave him an empty smirk as he made his way to the stairs and collapsed on into some ordinance of a sitting position. "It's not mine." he assured his father. "Well, not all of it." he corrected as his fingers brushed over where one of the gashes were still healing before his eyes.

"I should have seen this coming," his dad said catching him off guard. His father took a seat next to him on the stair and pulled him into a hug. "I should have made you tell me what was going on. I should have- I should have done something to-"

Stiles was stunned. Stiles pulled back out of the hug to look his dad in the eyes. "I want to tell you why I've been lying so much lately," saying the first thing that came to him. He had never meant to cause his father any pain. He knew he'd been making his father worry, but this was something he'd been hoping to avoid. This blame his father was feeling, Stiles knew how it felt, and the only thing he'd wanted was to spare it from his dad.

"What?" he asked, taken off guard, a perplexed look on his face.

"The reason I've been lying to you for the past eight-odd months, I want to tell you everything." Stiles focused his gaze on his dad daring him to contradict him.

"Stiles, I- um, yeah. That'd be great, but isn't there a more pressing matter at the moment?" he said eyeing the red stains covering the majority of Stiles' tattered clothes.

"Um, no. That's pretty much taken care of," Stiles stated doing his best to avoid looking his dad in the eye. He could see the cogs working away in his dad's head at what the possible applicability of that phrase could be. Stiles held up a hand as if to physically stop that train of thought from going any further. "Look, I have a lot to tell you, but I'd rather not do it covered in-" he gestured to himself, not quite willing to acknowledge what it was that was covering him. "Plus, I'll need Scott and Derek here to help explain a few things. We'll get through this somehow, I promise. Just- just give me some time to get my head together, ok?" Stile threw his father a pleading look to which the man's glare finally relented to a kind of forceful acceptance.

"Fine, but only on the condition that when you are done you tell me everything. And I mean EVERYTHING."

"There is nothing that I would like more," Stiles said honestly as he made his way up the stairs in the direction of the bathroom.

Stiles took as long as he could in the shower, rubbing his skin raw to rid himself of the guilt as much as the blood. _Out damn spot_, Stiles quoted morbidly in his head.

Eventually, though, he had to leave the shower and as he did he caught a glimpse of himself in the half fogged mirror above the sink. The wounds that had torn his skin were all but healed and even the raw red-ness from the shower was slowly ebbing away before his eyes. He could feel the damage of the heat and scrubbing being undone. It made him want to claw at his skin until it came off, until it wasn't his anymore, but he knew it was useless.

His eyes were drawn to the one wound that still stood out stark among the rest; the faint crescent indents of the teeth right above his collar bone. Stiles turned away from the mirror and headed across the hall to his room.

If Stiles stood still and listened he could hear his father in the room below him, his heartbeat erratic and pacing steady. It was a strange feeling, like he was listening to things he shouldn't hear.

In an effort for any distraction, Stiles grabbed the phone off his desk. He flipped it open and speed dialed two. He grabbed a shirt and pants while the phone rang and clicked as someone picked up.

"Hey, Scott. I need you to come over for a bit. I need your help with something."

"Yeah, sure. Be right over," Scott said quickly before hanging up.

Stiles hung up before pressing speed dial three and waiting as it rang. When it went to voice mail, he just let out a "Damn it, Derek" before hanging up and trying again.

There is a knock at the door not five minutes after Stiles hung up on Scott. He's still trying to reach Derek, but to no avail. It seems that Derek even went as far as to turn off his phone. His dad answered the door for him because he had not allowed Stiles to get up since he had come downstairs after getting out of the shower.

"Have you gotten a hold of Derek?" Stiles called from his place on the sofa.

"He isn't answering his phone," Scott replied, holding his phone up as an example, before joining him on the couch as his dad took up the chair he'd been sitting in before.

Stiles nodded, picking up where he left off before Scott's arrival. The next few hours were filled with demonstrations of wolf-y transformations, near heart attacks, logical arguments of the existence of supernatural creature (werewolves and others), and detailed stories of the past eight-odd months.

Everything from the night in the woods they'd gone looking for the body and Scott had been bitten up to and including when the Alpha pack had arrived in town and how they were responsible for all the murders lately because they were trying to get Derek's attention.

"So when that plan went utterly to shit, they decided 'hey, let's capture the human.' And then they did, this morning after you went to work." Stiles took a breather, reflecting on that last statement. Had it really been just this morning that all this had happened?

_The day had started out like any other weekend. Stiles came downstairs and made his dad and him breakfast before the sheriff had to get to the station. The breakfast had been quite even, because this too had become normal. Where once the two had shared yesterday's happenings and plans for the day now they both ate in silence, both holding back the questions and stories they were dying to say. _

_Several times his dad had laid down his fork and opened his mouth as if to start the conversation they both knew was coming, but each time he had closed it again and resumed eating. Finally, it was time for the sheriff to leave and Stiles walked him to the door._

* * *

_"I won't be home until about seven," he said._

_"That's alright. I was planning on hanging out with Scott today anyways; might stay the night." The '_again_' was left unsaid, but it was heard by both parties regardless._

_"Any chance you want to tell me what 'hanging out' entails?" the sheriff inquired, but Stiles only gave him a knowing smile saying that they both knew that today, right now, was not going to be the time for this discussion. "Yeah, didn't think so," he mumbled._

_His dad had barely made it out of the driveway before Stiles had his phone out. "Yeah, Derek, my dad just left, I'm on my way. Did Lydia find anything in the bestiary that could help us?" Stiles asks as he searched the living room for his hoodie._

_"Not yet," answered Derek. "Scott says that Deaton gave him some information."_

_"Great! What is it?" Stiles asked enthused that they'd gotten anything._

_"I don't know," Derek growled, obviously annoyed. "But he didn't want to tell me over the phone so he's on his way over as well."_

_"Cool, I'll meet you guys over there in a bit. In fact call Lydia; she'll want to be there too," Stiles adds, opening the door and stepping outside._

_"You call her. I'm not a damn owl Stiles," Derek grunted_

_"Oh my god, was that a Harry Potter reference? You just made a pop culture reference. I'm so proud of you."_

_"Just Hurry up and get over here."_

_"Keep your socks on Sourwolf. I'm on my way."_

_Derek grunted an affirmative before hanging up_

_"My little caveman," Stiles says affectionately as he yanks the door to his jeep open. There was a sudden flash of pain and then he passed._

_Now Stiles is clumsy. There is a lot of evidence to support this. Although to be fair a majority of his injuries of late have more to do with werewolves than his own limbs. The current situation seemed to be no exception. As Stiles blearily opened his eyes he found a group of five or six people in front of him. As he blinked a few more times all the people finally came into focus as one extremely attractive Indian woman grinning widely at him. _

_"Oh, great, you're alive. I was beginning to think that my friend here had hit you too hard." The woman gestured over her shoulder to a tall, blonde muscle-man that was almost as big as Derek. "But I'm really happy you're alive." The way she said that made it apparent that dying earlier would have been a better option. Unfortunately, that no longer seemed to be a choice. Damn. "Humans are so fragile," she continued. "You have to be careful about how you handle them."_

_Stiles checked his limbs for any bonds, but they were surprisingly free. Of course, you'd have to be a pretty big fool to try and make a break for it with this many Alpha werewolves surrounding you. Argumentably, Stiles was not known for his great decision making. The world was starting to come back into focus a bit more, so Stiles decided to try out his voice. _

_"Yeah, that's us squishies for you; always causing trouble for you wolf folk," he rasped out. He badly needed a drink of water. _

_"Oh, I like him," said a voice to his left._

_"He's got spirit," chimed in another voice._

_Stiles turned to address the two new people, but stopped when he was suddenly seeing double again. No, not seeing double, twins. There were two twin Alphas leaning against the wall to his left. How two twins both got to be Alphas was probably a really interesting story, but before he was able to ask, he was interrupted. _

_"This is pointless." The Muscle-man growled impatiently._

_"Right," Stiles agreed. "So how about you get to the point of this encounter and do what you villains do best and spill your great master plan. So, why exactly did you kidnap me? Am I bait? Leverage? Are you just trying to send a message? Come on. What's your end game here?"_

_The woman gave a deadly smile. "Yes," she agreed "A message would do quite nicely. But, we need a way to ensure that it gets delivered." _

_Her smile grew to a whole new level of evil. She looked like she could pass as the reincarnation of the Hindu Goddess Kali. Before his eyes the woman's teeth elongated, her face transformed into something more beast than human and her eyes took a fire-red feral glow to them. _

_"You don't pull that off as well as Erica," was Stiles' smart-ass response before he was lifted out of his chair with a sharp growl. _

_A sharp pain shot through his shoulder as the female Alpha sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of his shoulder. He was thrown on the floor unceremoniously. While he lay there in pain he felt the wolf within him waking up and his eyes were drawn to the single source of light for the room. Through the busted out windows of the probably abandoned warehouse Stiles glimpsed the moon, round and swollen. Stiles felt a swell of power that pulled him to the moon and sent a wave of uncalled for relief through him. A howl tore through the warm night, sending a chill up his spine. It was howl of victory._

_The heat of another body appeared over him and a voice whispered in his ear. "You shall learn the call of your Alpha." _

_A new rage caused blood red to wash over the silver light of the moon. Instead of the calming song of before, the moon now called out egging him on; a silent chant of '_kill, kill them, kill them all, kill_.' A roar ripped through his chest, animalistic and raw, as he grabbed the throat of the wolf right next to him. _

_"I already have an Alpha," he growled and ripped their throat out with his teeth. The red was already starting to absorb into his eyes as he stood to face the other Alphas that were staring at him in shock that soon dissolved into anger. Stiles, still high on his power boost, cracked his neck and threw them a smug grin._

_By the time Derek and the rest of the pack got there it was almost too late. The other four members of the Alpha packs had circled around Stiles and backed him into a corner. He was bleeding from several large cuts all over his body. As Derek's pack burst through the door, all four of the other wolves turned to look at them. They too weren't in good shape. All of them were sporting injuries of some sort, because Stiles was not the type to go down without a fight. The Alphas, knowing that taking down one wolf was not as easy as taking down a pack and already weakened with their battle before, decided to make a strategic exit. _

_"You think this is over!" one of the men called. "Not even close." _

_They were gone within seconds, vanishing through broken windows and out the back door leaving Stiles by himself, eyes still glowing a bright Alpha red. Slowly he stood to face them, still watching his hands. He was covered in blood from head to toe, the blood dripping down his forearm and his chest from wounds that were still gaping, not yet healed, but on their way. The body of the dead Alpha lay not ten feet from him, but Stiles wouldn't even look in that direction. Instead he raised his eyes, the startling red draining out leaving his normal amber color, to meet that of his packs (if they were still his pack at this point, Stiles wasn't quite sure how this worked out yet) searching for some form of comfort. He didn't find it, their expressions a mix of disbelief and shock. Even Jackson wasn't wearing his usual sneer. _

_"I-I think I'll just go home now." he stated, voice shaking and eyes darting away. Aside from a brief moment with Scott, none of the others tried to stop him. Stiles drove away unhindered._

_The pack looked to Derek, waiting for him to say something. "Scott, follow Stiles," he said eventually. "Make sure he doesn't do something...tragic." The Alpha turned to the remainder of his pack. "The rest of you, with me, we have some Alphas to catch."_

* * *

Meanwhile, Stiles' dad was hysteric. "They kidnapped you? From our front yard? In broad daylight?! How did no one report this?!"

"Wolf-y superpowers," Stiles says wiggling his fingers in an attempt to demonstrate how werewolves have magic powers. "Look it's not the first time and it wasn't even as bad as the time with-"

"Not the first time?!" the sheriff interrupted. "Not as bad? Do you even hear yourself right now?"

"Yes dad, I do, but I've come to the realization that this is my life and I will do what I can with what I'm given," Stiles said calmly.

"This is your life? It sounds to me like you could have left at several points in the last few months," his dad present logically, if not still very loudly. "You could have left at any time. Why didn't you?"

"Well, I-" And...that was a good question. Stiles had always believed it was because of Scott. After all, Scott would have been held back several times already if it wasn't for him. How could he have possibly managed the whole werewolf thing on his own? But then there was Derek. The tall, brooding, reluctant-to-trust, emotionally-constipated Alpha. Surely, if Stiles hadn't been there Derek would have been.

In fact, a lot of problems might have been solved if Stiles had left. Scott might have joined Derek's pack. Jackson may have never found out which would mean no Kanima. Who knows, maybe if Scott would have joined Derek, he wouldn't have gone after Isaac, Erica, or Boyd. So, why didn't he leave it alone? The answer was simple, and selfish; because he was Stiles and when he saw a sleeping bear he couldn't let it lie, he had to poke it with a stick.

Stiles looked up at his dad and realized he was still waiting on an answer.

"I never left because I believed they needed my help," he finally said. "Not that it matters now, anyway," he added.

"Ahh, right," his dad said. "I have a feeling we're getting to the part of why you came home this evening covered in blood."

"Right, so as I said they knocked me out and kidnapped me and brought me to this old warehouse. I woke up and-" This time a shrill ringing cut him off followed by a vibration from the phone in his pocket. "I am never getting through this story," he mumbled to himself as he flicked the phone open.

"Y'ello," Stiles greeted the blocked number. He had learned long ago that unknown numbers were usually the pack calling from some unregistered phone or something. Unfortunately this was not the case.

"Yellow is a color not a greeting, Stiles," greeted Deaton's voice on the other end of the line.

"Ah, Deaton. How are you? I didn't even know you had my number."

'Deaton?' Scott mouthed and his father was shooting him a look that said the same thing. He offered both of them a shrug since truthfully he was as baffled as the both of them.

"Oh, I have my way," the vet said in his usual super calm, mystery voice. "Anyways, I hear you have yourself in a predicament of your own. That the Alphas were giving you a little trouble and that resulted in a bad mishap. Want to tell me about it?"

"Honestly, I have no idea how you could have possibly have heard that." Stiles huffed indignantly.

Oh, I have my way," he repeated in that 'I have a secret' tone he uses so often.

"Right, I was about to tell this story to my dad anyway," he said as he switched his phone to speaker. An experienced ear would probably be a welcome companion to this conversation, and since Derek was nowhere to be found Deaton would have to do.

As Stiles re-told the tale he was stopped only a few times to explain something to his dad or give more details to Deaton. Other than that, it didn't take long to reach the end of his story.

"The thing that gets me," he was saying in conclusion, "is that Derek said that if you kill the Alpha that turns you, that you turn back. So, was the information false or am I just an anomaly in every species that I become a part of?"

"Well," says the doctor, "that depends on a few factors. I could very well be that you are an anomaly, but it's unlikely. As for the story, I have no basis for comparison, so I can't really tell you. Right now I think the most important thing that needs to be asked is, in all the confusion, are you sure you killed the right Alpha?"

Stiles was about to supplies automatically that yes, of course he was sure, but he hesitated. He remembered how out of sorts he'd been almost the entire time since he had woken up. He'd been punched in the face, thrown around, and there had been major blood loss accompanied by a new surge of power from the bite. By the time he had ripped the Alphas throat out he'd been blinded by rage. And the voice he'd heard 'whispering' in his ear may have been across the room for all he was accustomed to his new senses. And After. After, Stiles had been so abashed by what he'd done that he could hardly look in the same direction of the body. So, could he be really sure that he'd killed the right Alpha? Stiles let out a groan that sounded more like a growl even to his own ears. Out of the corner of his vision, Stiles saw his father shift uncomfortably in the chair.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'" Deaton's voice came over the speaker. "I'll look into this legend that Derek was talking about, but I suggest in the meantime, you find some way to confirm your own story. I'll get back in touch with you when I have something."

"Right, thanks Deaton," Stiles said before pressing the 'end call' button and putting the phone back into his pocket.

"So," the sheriff said standing up, "I think I need a drink after all this."

"I think we all do." said Scott glumly.

"Wouldn't help." Stiles reminded him. "We can't get drunk anyways."

"Well, at least one thing good came out of all this," the sheriff mumbled and Stiles couldn't help a small grin at that. His dad sighed and seemed to process some of what he had been told over the course of the night. "So, Werewolves?" he asked Stiles.

"Yup." Stiles nodded.

"And you're one of them now?"

"Seems like it."

"Right, beer," his father said before making his way out of the room. At least somethings don't ever seem to change. Stilinski men with nerves of steel, nothing shakes us. Not even mythological creatures that could possibly maim you living in your house.

"You know," his father called, making his way back to the living room. "I think Melissa had it easier when she found out. At least her son didn't come home covered in blood for her to find out."

"Yeah," Scott pouted, "she just got forced into a hostage situation by a maniac controlling a lizard creature and had to watch her son be shot and then turn into a werewolf. So much easier."

"Point made," the sheriff said, obviously remembering the whole situation (or at least what he remembered before being knocked out), "there is no easy way of finding all this out."

"Maybe we'll set up a date between you two, so you can have some kind of 'My kid's a supernatural being' group therapy thing." Stiles said getting up and stretching his stiff muscles. "But right now it is-" Stiles eyes found the nearest clock "Shit! It's like four in the morning and you, dad," he gave the man a pointed glare, "have to be to work in less than two hours. Go. Upstairs and to bed with you, Scott and I will clean up down here." Stiles nodded his head in the direction of the stairs to emphasize the point. This earned him a put upon look from his dad, but he went up to bed anyways. Stiles figured he had a lot to work through and probably wouldn't get much sleep anyways, but it made him happy to see him go. "Hey dad," he called before the man was half way up. The sheriff stopped and looked down at his son. "I just wanted to say, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to keep all this from you, or for so long. It's just one thing lead to another and I just-"

"-found yourself in a deeper hole of lies each time you tried to tell me the truth?" he finished for him. Stiles nodded. "I'm just happy you finally told me and I guess I can see why you kept some things from me," he conceded. "But son, ever lie to me again and you will be grounded until you're old enough for social security," he added threateningly.

"Fair enough." Stiles smiled as his dad made the rest of his way upstairs and to his room.

There wasn't a lot to clean up so instead of getting right to work, Stiles decided to ask Scott a question that's been nagging at him for a while. "Scott," he said, getting the boy's attention "What was it that you had to tell Derek this morning? About the Alpha pack? He said that you said it was too important to say over the phone."

"Oh, yeah. When I got to Derek's he said that we should wait for you and Lydia, but you didn't show up and Lydia showed up an hour later and said that you'd never called and Derek was frantic at the time and had all of us out looking for you so I never actually had the chance to tell anyone." Scott was babbling and now Stiles knew how everyone else felt when they just wanted him to get to the point. He made a mental note to try to do that less. "So, anyways," Scott continued, "Deaton and I think we may have found out why it was that the Alpha pack was here in the first place!" Scott beamed brightly like a proud puppy that had finally done a trick right.

"Aaaannnd?" Stiles prompted.

"Oh, right. They were here to test out how Derek was as an Alpha and possibly recruit them to their pack. They were here to assess the strength of the pack and see if it would be worth it to fight us for the territory, but also to assess how Derek was as a leader. Apparently, the Alpha pack preys on new packs to expand their own gain. Each of the Alphas have a pack of their own, but there's also an Alpha to the Alpha pack."

"Kind of like a higher tier on the Alpha food chain or something?" Stiles asked.

"Yup," Scott confirmed with a quick bob of his head. "He's the one who organizes them."

Something the Alphas said right before they disappeared rang through Stiles mind. 'You think this is over? Not even close!' Stiles' mind was already working out how he should process the new information it's been given.

"Scott, I think we should both get some rest now," Stiles said, standing up again. "It's been a long day and I don't think the following ones will be any shorter." He offered a weak smile to his friend as he lead him to the door.

"Yeah," Scott agreed, stifling a yawn. "We never do catch a break do we?"

"No, not really." He waved goodbye to his friend from the door way and watched him run off down the street towards his house. "We never seem catch a break ever." He repeated to himself before shutting the door and making his way up to his own room and collapsing on the bed.

* * *

**So, Stiles is a werewolf, his dad finally knows everything, and a pack of angry Alphas are headed back to Beacon Hills only after they go get an even stronger Alpha. Yeah, seems like a typical Saturday for Stiles and the gang to me. I'm just wondering how Stiles is going to deal with all his new wolf senses. Or more importantly how I'm going to write it?**


	2. Werewolf Philosophy

It had been a long night, so after letting Scott out, Stiles collapsed on to the bed, not even bothering to spend the energy to get undressed. It was a couple minutes laying there in the complete silence before Stiles just couldn't take all of the noise. He could hear the stray cats in his back yard and the cars on the main road and the couple a few streets over having an argument over the dishwasher. (Even Stiles could tell the dishwasher was the least of their problems.) Exasperated and unable to close out all the different noises, Stiles decided to try to focus on just one sound and try to block out all the others. He picked up a heartbeat and listened to its steady beating as all the other noises seemed to melt away. They eased into the background, like a white static behind the steady thump-thump of the heartbeat he focused on. It was much easier this way. Stiles could almost relax. He could feel his own heart beat slowing to match the one he was listening to. His breathing evened out. His mind calmed down enough that he could hear himself think again. That's when it hit him. This heartbeat, the one he had singled out of all the other noise, it was coming from very close to him. Not down the hall from where his father's room was, but more, right above him.

Stiles was out of the bed and to his window in a flash. He grabbed the edge of the roof and swung himself up, landing on something warm, but hard as bricks. "Aren't you ever going to outgrow your creeper ways, Sourwolf?" Stiles asked grinning down at the almost shocked looking Derek the he was now straddling. And oh, right, straddling was not considered appropriate behavior between the two of them. "What are you doing here Derek?" Stiles asked, slowly climbing off of the older werewolf and onto the slightly colder roof.

"You called me," he said simply sitting up more so they both turned facing out, looking at Stiles' back yard.

Stiles gave him an incredulous look. "Yeah, about four hours ago," Stiles observed. "I wanted you there when I explained all of this stuff to my dad because frankly Scott and I didn't have a lot of answers to a lot of questions. I needed you there."

"So, you told your dad about everything then?" Derek asked nonchalantly, but Stiles could see the tense shoulders and how his jaw clenched and unclenched while waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, apparently coming home covered in blood was his breaking point." Stiles teased in a dark tone. The truth was a small part of him was hoping he'd never have to tell his dad. Stiles looked over to where Derek was staring at his hands in that way that told Stiles he was blaming himself again. "He's not going to go out and hunt you down or anything, don't worry. He promised." Stiles smiled over at him, bumping shoulders and looking back out at the expanse of the yard. "It's not your fault you know." He offered a more reassuring smile and he thought he could see some of the tension ease out of his shoulders as Derek half-heartily tried to return it. "I also got an interesting call from Deaton," he said carefully, giving Derek a side-long glance.

"Really? And what did he have to say?" Derek asked, averting his eyes again suddenly.

"Aha, I knew it. You gave him my number. Oh, you sneaky Alpha you."

"I just thought you might need someone to talk to that actually knew what was going on."

"Yeah, I did, but I was hoping that someone would be you," That got him a strange look. "Deaton always creeped me out with his Zen calm thing going on," Stile Explained further. "At least your creeper ways of climbing into my window and throwing me against walls is normal." Derek raised an eyebrow. "Ok, so normal as in 'as normal as our lives ever get.'" he corrected.

"So, how are you doing, um, with everything?" Derek asked, obviously satisfied with moving on from the topic.

"Oh, just swell, because it's every teenage girl's dream to become and Alpha not three minutes after getting kidnapped and bitten by a pack of Alpha werewolf." Stiles sassed in his best 'pretty, pretty princess' voice and fluttering his eye lashes in Derek's direction. Stiles huffed and Derek rolled his eyes.

"I'll take the use of sarcasm as a good sign." Derek said trying for stringent, but there was a small smirk playing at his lips.

"What can I say Derek?" Stiles asked more seriously this time. "I'm dealing with this as best I can. But seeing as I can't even get it quiet enough in my own head with all this sensory over load to sleep, I guess that that isn't handling it very well. Anyways, there's nothing else I can do right?"

"Is that what Deaton said?" Derek asked curiously.

"No. He just wanted to know about everything that happened. And I even asked him about the story you told Scott about killing the alpha that turned you and he said he'd look into it."

"So, he couldn't tell you if the story was true or not?" And the tension was back in his shoulders. Stiles could understand why. If the story wasn't true then he hadn't really taken away Scott's only chance at a normal life. It was a little less guilt that he wouldn't have to haul around on top of everything else he had to deal with.

"He said he's never heard of it happening before, but he's going to look into it. Also, there's a slight possibility that I may have killed the wrong Alpha." Stiles blushed a bit and he could feel Derek's gaze on him though he couldn't bring himself to meet it.

"You may have what?" the older man asked. "Are you saying you didn't know who bit you?"

"No!" Stiles said defensively before adding more sheepishly, "I'm saying I don't know who I killed. I was a bit out of it you know, with the whole possible concussion and blood loss and first change. Yeah, not the easiest way to keep track of who you're maiming."

Derek wore a thoughtful expression. "So, if you saw the body, do you think you can ID it?" he asked.

"Yeah, probably." he shrugged. "But, isn't it under about six feet of dirt by now? I mean you guys did get rid of the body by now, right?"

"Not exactly." Derek said standing up and making his way to the edge of the roof.

"Wait, wait. What do you mean not exactly?" Stiles said, standing up and following Derek to the edge. "Are you saying it's like just lying in the middle of the woods or something? What does 'not exactly' imply?"

"It implies," Derek snarked, "that we were otherwise occupied. Now come on." And Derek jumped off the roof, landing gracefully on the ground below. "Coming?" he called back up.

Stiles took a deep breath and jumped off his second story roof after him. Although, it seemed even being a werewolf didn't help that he was too clumsy for his own good and Stiles still stumbled a few steps when he landed, almost falling onto Derek. "Nice to now somethings never change." Stiles muttered trying to straighten himself as Derek steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. A strange tingly warmth spread from where he held him even through the three layers of clothes he wore. Stiles took a step back, away from the touch, and cleared his throat. "So, um, where'd you park?"

"I didn't drive here."

"Then how are we sup...Oh, right." Stiles trailed off feeling a bit slow. He pointed at himself. "Werewolf. Forgot."

Derek had to hold back a grin. Because even as a wolf- an Alpha wolf to boot- Stiles was still the most human out of all of them. Still the goofy, chatter-box that went out of his way to make you smile. Because he was Stiles, and when he saw a sleeping bear he couldn't let it lie, he had to poke it with a stick. Derek hid his face (and his smile) by turning down the lamp-lit street and starting off in the direction they needed to go. He kept the pace slow at first; letting Stiles get used to it, but soon the overactive boy was bounding ahead of him. Derek took this as an invitation to go faster, so he did. By the time they reached the old ware house district both of their breaths were coming slightly heavier and Stiles wore a big grin on his face.

"That's totally as much fun as I thought it would be," he chirped much too cheerfully for the job that they had come here to do. But Derek didn't say anything because he was smothering a grin himself.

"Come on, let's get this over with." Derek said a little too fondly for his liking and strided into the building.

As they walked through the door, Stiles took inventory of where they were. "You mean, you didn't even move the body?!" he cried indignantly. Flailing in the general direction of the shapeless mass hidden under a canvas off to the side slightly, the overturned chair was still on the floor not too far from the canvas covered mass. Derek picked it up and pulled it up to the body and sat down as Stiles moved the canvas to inspect the shapeless mass underneath. It was impossible to identify anything on the body. You could barely tell it was human let alone try to figure out who it had been. All Stiles remembered was the anger, the heat, and the chanting of the moon calling for blood to be spilt. Blood that he willing shed by ripping their throat out. "I did that," he told himself quietly and those words alone seemed to make it final.

Before these last few months, Stiles never thought he'd be capable of such a thing, but, then again, these last few months had been very enlightening. More so than Stiles had ever wanted. And there was a good chance he wasn't done learning just yet. But Stiles took comfort in that thought for once. His initiation into being a werewolf wasn't the best. Like his dad had said earlier, there really isn't an easy way in, but if all he knew about this world was what had happened in this room, Stiles wouldn't be sure how he'd react.

Actually, he did. If Stiles hadn't spent as much time with Derek and Scott as he did and had known there was a way to control it, Stiles knows he'd be really scared of himself right now. Thankfully, he had a pack to help him through this (or at least he hoped he still did).

A firm weight was placed on his shoulder and Stiles turned to see Derek leaning out of the chair another awkward look on his face. It grounded him enough to bring him out of his own thoughts.

"This- what, how am I supposed to get anything off this? I can't even tell if this is human, let alone whether it's male or female. I'm way too far out of my depth here. In fact you're lucky I'm so used to seeing dead bodies by now, or else I'd probably have lost my lunch." Stiles dropped the canvas back to cover the gory mess and looked up to meet Derek's eyes. He looked slightly less awkward as he left the chair and knelt next to Stiles.

"I don't count any part of this lucky," Derek mumbled as he turned to face him directly. "What about your other senses? Focus on scent."

Stiles took an experimental sniff. "But there are a million scents in here alone," Stiles complained, scrunching his nose. "And most of them are quite unpleasant. How do I focus on just one?"

Derek frowned, trying to find the right words to explain. "Close your eyes," he said finally, moving his attention back to Stiles. Stiles, on the other hand, just looked at him skeptically. "Close them," Derek said a little more forcibly. With a huff, Stiles did as he was asked. "Now picture each scent as a thread."

"But all the threads are tangled up in one another." Stiles' brow furrowed, his eyes still closed.

"So, untangle them," Derek instructed. "Follow them to the source until you find the one you are looking for."

Stiles opened his eyes and looked at Derek. "Is this how your parents taught you?"

Derek looked startled for a second before returning to his usual hard blankness. "Close your eyes, follow the threads."

Stiles, afraid he may have pushed too far, did as he was told once again. He sorted through the threads one at a time for a bit in silence before Derek's voice broke through his concentration.

"It was my mother."

Stiles' eyes opened again. "What?"

"My mother. She was the one who taught me this. She was the alpha, so it was her job to teach me."

Derek wouldn't look at him, instead locking on to something on the wall to his left, but Stiles' attention was locked on the look on his face. It looked like any of his other hard expression, but his eyes, even looking away, were far more open than he'd ever seen them. Another scent was coming mixing with the scent that Stiles had designated 'Derek.' A bitterness cut with an almost sweet scent. Stiles related it to grief mixed with remembering good times. A small grin broke across Stiles face and his closed his eyes to finish sorting through the threads.

Derek watched Stiles' face as he sorted through everything in his head. He wore the same expression that came when he was intently focused on something. His brow slightly creased and mouth in a tight line. It was the same look he wore when he was doing research or coming up with another plan that would inevitably save all their asses once again.

As Derek stared at Stiles face he felt something stir inside him. It wasn't his wolf, because Derek was all too familiar with what that felt like, but this was something far deeper. As he watched, Stiles' eyes flicked open and met Derek's, both of them flashing crimson. The air was thick with tightness to the point where Derek had to look away, the action feeling more like the snapping of tie between them.

Stiles cleared his throat. "I-um, I think I found the scent."

"Right." Derek nodded turning back to the task at hand. "And do you recognize it?"

"I told you before, I don't remember anything ab-"

"I meant, does your _wolf_ recognize the scent?" Derek corrected evenly.

"Oh, sure, yeah, just let my call him up on my little werewolf cell phone and ask him." Stiles sassed automatically, giving Derek a look.

Derek broke his usual sourface to give Stiles an offended scowl. "Your wolf is a part of you now. It's- You don't-" Derek huffed at his own inability to form words. "Close your eyes again."

Stiles looked at Derek skeptically before rolling his eyes dramatically and relenting. "You're lucky I trust you by now." Stiles grumbled as he closes his eyes once again completely oblivious to the way Derek's heart skipped a beat at the simple words. Or at least Derek hopes he hasn't honed that particular skill set yet. Stiles didn't react, so Derek guessed not. "Look inside. Do you feel the wolf?"

"That depends." Stiles says, raising an eyebrow over closed lids. "What exactly does this wolf feel like?"

Derek thinks for a moment before his mother's words are on his lips once again. "It rest here." he says placing a warm, heavy hang over Stiles chest. "It is at your very core. It is instinct to fight as much as it is to protect. Humans have one too, did you know? They call it a soul, but ours is more feral. They domesticated their wolves long ago, excepted the chains that went with that. Humans embraced logic and threw away their instincts, just as the animals chose to embrace their instincts in turn of logic. It is truly what separates us from either of them. We understand both and we understand the struggle that it causes to embrace both."

Stiles looked up at Derek blinkingly and eyes wide. "You know, I think that's the most I've heard you talk ever." A glare from Derek had Stiles throwing his hands up in defeat. "Alright, sorry." Stiles' hand moved up to cover Derek's own where it was still spread across his chest and changing his tone completely he said, "So, what really sets us apart isn't our strength or our senses; it's our understanding?"

Derek nodded. "According to my mom, that's how it works. Does that make sense? To you, I mean."

Stiles nodded slowly in response. "Yeah, I think I get it now. Let me try again." Stiles stood up, letting Derek's hand slide off his chest, but instead interlocked their fingers. He started sniffing and scenting the air until he found the trail once again. He breathed deeply, taking in the scent fully and waited for his wolf to react. He opened his eyes again and looked at Derek. "No, I don't think this is the right one. It's familiar, but not...right, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know. It's instinct," Derek said, standing up off the chair and taking his hand back. Stiles tried not being disappointed. There was really no reason to be holding hands in the first place, so no reason to be upset. The logic didn't really help. "So, it looks like we're going to have to find the Alphas again." Derek sighed rubbing a hand through his hair.

"What do you mean again?" Stiles asked tone suddenly wary. The things Scott had told him earlier running through his mind again. "Are you saying you don't know where they are?"

"I told you, we were a bit busy. That's what we were doing." Derek defended. "What did you think I meant?"

"You chased the Alphas out of town?" Stiles asked, ignoring the question and getting a bit worked up now. Stiles' heart was beating faster than usual, which Derek didn't think was even possible with his normal rabbit pace. "No, no, this is bad. Very, very not good."

"Stiles, I know you're worried about not finding your Alpha again, but I'm sure we can-"

"No, Derek." Stiles cut him off firmly. "That is not the problem here. They're coming back. But that's just what I'm afraid of."

"Why are you afraid of that?" Derek asked, obviously not grasping what was going on. God, how could someone that beautiful be that dense. "What are you trying to say?" Derek was practically growling now.

"What I'm saying is you shouldn't have let them go."

"But, what do you mean they're coming back?" Derek asked, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "How could you possibly know that?"

"It's what Scott wanted to tell you this morning. The Alphas have an Alpha of their own and he is stronger than any of them, than all of them." Stiles took a step closer into Derek's personal space, his tone growing more serious. "What I'm saying Derek, is that we should have killed them when we had the chance."

Derek seemed to be finally grasping the concept as a grim look cast a shadow over his face. "I think we should head back now. There's some stuff I need to take care of."

Stiles and Derek made their way down the street that led to his house. The sun would be coming up soon, but the moon still hung low in the sky. Stiles knew his dad would be up soon as well, but he didn't quite feel like breaking this -whatever this was- that he was having with Derek. It was the calmest he'd felt in a long while and with all the excitement of his new found wolf powers, the calm was a welcome divergent from his usual program of running for his life in the forest. "So," Stiles began, slowing his pace a bit more, "I was wondering about, um, since I'm a wolf now, does that make me part of your pack? Or does my Alpha-ness negate that in some way?"

Derek stopped walking all together making Stiles stop with him. When he looked back, a strange, confused look was on Derek's face. "What do you mean 'now'? You've always been a part of the pack. Even before Scott agreed to stay."

"But, I wasn't a wolf. I thought only wolves could be part of a pack."

"You don't have to be a wolf. There are always humans in a pack. They're actually really important to pack structure." Derek informed him matter-of-fact-ly.

"Ah, I see. Everyone needs someone that's lower than them, even the Betas," Stiles teased in that self-deprecating tone that meant that he actually believed what he was saying.

"That's not what I meant," Derek growled out. "Humans were actually treated with as much respect as Alphas most of the time. Or at least in our family they were. They could be seen as a neutral party for any pack and provide anchor for the younger wolves before they find their own."

Stiles stared at Derek for a while, before he started walking away again. "Werewolf philosophy is weird, dude," he said, not really knowing what else to say.

Derek grinned and started walking again too. "Yeah, well, none of the others ever ask about the philosophy of being a werewolf, just the biology."

"I think I've learned enough about the biology of werewolves from having to stitch you guys up and reset your bones after fights," Stiles said scrunching his face at the memories. "Remember, I had to chain Scott up on his first moon. I know more than enough about werewolf biology to last me a lifetime. The philosophy is the part that's new to me." Stiles could see his front porch a few houses down the street. "Well I guess it's a little different now, huh? Less hypothetical."

"He who runs with the wolves, learns to howl." Derek quoted. "I guess the saying is true. But, you know, there are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls." Derek's face was softer than Stiles had ever seen it as he smiled softly up at the round disk in the sky and his eyes seemed to shimmer with the silver light, like it was a joke they shared between them, he and the moon. It was actually a very captivating sight to see Derek this way for once and they walked along like that for a little bit in the silence; Derek watching the moon and Stiles watching him smile.

"Wolf or not," Derek suddenly spoke again as they reached his porch, "the moon liked you. You were pack."

Stiles laughed and jingled the keys in his hand as he smiled up at his big, burly Alpha. "You know Sourwolf, I think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

Derek smiled back and took a step forward and opened his mouth, but his reply was cut off as just then his dad was suddenly standing in the now open door.

"I think you two should come in now." he said, stepping to the side to let them in. As the two just stood there shocked, he repeated a little exasperated, "Now!"

As funny as it was to watch Derek scramble into the house, the look his dad was shooting him wiped the smile right off his face. _This looks to be a very pleasant breakfast_, Stiles thought as he closed the door behind him, _NOT!_

* * *

_**So Stiles actually handles being a wolf better than I think Scott did. And why is Stiles so used to seeing dead bodies? Aww baby, you break my heart sometimes. But then the Sterek-y scene as their walking home. Gah, I can't write romance. I suck at this, really I do. Fuck.**_


	3. It Was Only a Dream, Right?

"You know I get elected to this job right?" The Sheriff said after sitting Derek down at the small dining table in the corner of the kitchen with him and leaving Stiles to make breakfast. "I can't just have everyone see my son come home covered in blood and then not five hours later see him talking it up on the front porch with a convicted felon. No offense Derek."

"None taken," said Derek at the same time that Stiles exclaimed, "Those charges were dropped!"

"The point is," the Sheriff was saying over his son, "I do need to keep up appearances if I'm going to keep this job. Do you understand?" He was mainly looking at Derek when he asked this.

The Alpha nodded.

"Good, and since I'm sure that you and Stiles are going to be spending a good amount of time together, I would like it if you would as well," the Sheriff added.

"Ah, sir," Derek said, a little uneasy," I'm not quite sure what you're getting at here."

"Well, if what I hear from Stiles is to be believed you are an unemployed, twenty-something year old that lives in the burnt remains of your old house and hangs out with a bunch of teenagers. That's not quite the image of a respectable citizen."

"Well, when you put it that way it sounds really bad." Stiles mumbled from the stove where he was currently cooking up some egg whites and wheat toast for his father.

"I can see your point," Derek said, both of them ignoring Stiles' comment, "but I haven't really had the time to situate myself in the town properly. I've been a bit...busy. You know, with being a fugitive and not getting killed by things." Derek's tone was respectful, but also portrayed the annoyance he was obviously feeling towards the Sheriff's comments. "I haven't really had the time to go job hunting or apartment shopping lately."

"That makes sense, which is why I've been thinking, we're still a little low on help down at the station." The reference to the massacre that had happened a few months prior made all three of the men flinch.

It took a second for what his dad was asking to sink in before Stiles was saying, "Do you really think that's such a good idea?" He placed a plate of egg whites and whole grain toast in front of his dad (with two whole slices of real bacon because maybe he was sort of still apologizing) and a cheese omelet with regular toast and bacon in front of Derek. The older Alpha gave him a strange look that was either asking "What is a good idea?" or "How did you know this is what I eat for breakfast?"

"You ordered this last time we went to the diner." Stiles said opting to answer the latter question and making his way back to the stove.

His dad was already moving on to his genius plan. "What are you talking about, it's a great idea. Derek is a werewolf and from what you tell me that means he's a walking lie detector. Plus with him on the force I can keep a better eye on, erm, out for the supernatural stuff, right?"

"Yes." Stiles agreed frying himself up some eggs, "I guess that makes sense, but are the other guys going to go for it? I mean he was suspected of murder."

"I'm sure we can work something out." The sheriff said, and then started mumbling to himself like he always did when he was working something out. Stiles huffed out a laugh as he grabbed the chair between Derek and the sheriff.

"What do you think?" he asked, grabbing a bit of his own eggs. "Do you want to be a cop?"

Derek chewed his bacon thoughtfully before answering, " You dad has a point. It would be something I would be good at. But, honestly, I don't think anyone would go for it. Plus you need to have a lot of training to be a police officer, right? I'd have a better chance teaching at your school."

"Teaching?! Don't you need a degree in something to teach?" asked Stiles.

"Who says I don't?"

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "You're joking, right? You're just pulling my leg right now."

Derek shrugged, but the smug grin on his face seriously had him questioning exactly how much he didn't know about one Derek Hale. "God sometimes I hate you," he said exasperatedly.

"So, are you two finished with your breakfast?" the sheriff asked suddenly. Stile looked down at the plates and saw that all three of them had been decently cleared during their short conversation. "Good, let's go." His dad stood up and started putting on his coat on.

"Wait all of us?" Stiles asked perplexed. "Why am I going?"

"Maybe because last time I left you alone you were kidnapped, tortured, turned into a werewolf, and you killed someone," The sheriff explained. "I'd rather not leave you alone."

Those were all good points, but Stiles didn't really fancy hanging out at the station all day. "But what would I being doing there? I have things to do here. I don't want to waste the whole day at the station."

"I can call one of my betas to come over. I'm sure they wouldn't mind." Derek added.

Stiles nodded his support. It's not so much that he didn't want to spend the day at the station, there were still a lot of people that Stiles knew and liked and seeing Derek have to go through the process of becoming a police man would almost be worth it, but Stiles just couldn't be in the station anymore without seeing all the officers lying dead in the halls and the sound of Matt and the Kanima coming after him. He especially couldn't stand the repeated vision of Matt knocking his dad out as he lay there half paralyzed and unable to do anything to help. He just couldn't do it.

Thankfully the look on his dad's face seemed like he understood, or at least like have was going to agree. "Fine," he said. "If Derek calls one of his, uh, Betas, I'll allow you to stay."

Derek was slipped on his own leather jacket before he slipped out his phone and was already texting one of their numbers when he called back to Stiles before leaving the room. "Don't forget we have a pack meeting today. Post-full moon meeting. We'll catch everyone up on the situation then."

"Yeah," Stiles nodded without thinking before stopping and turning to his dad. "If that's ok with you, I mean."

His dad looked like he was thinking about it. "Would you be going even if I told you not to go?"

"Probably." Stiles answered truthfully.

"Then you can go. I would ask to go with you, but I work a double tonight. Next time," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Stiles and Derek nodded in unison.

When his father and Derek were finally off, Stiles turned his attention to the house. Derek had said that someone would be over a little later today. Instead of worrying about that, Stiles went through his routine of dishes and laundry and vacuuming. Eventually he ran out of things to do and no one had yet to show up. Stiles bit his lip in worry as he stared at the silent door. Without something to take his attention from it Stile could feel the edge of the panic he'd been feeling since the night before and his encounter with the Alphas start to rise up. The swirl of thought he'd been holding back threatened to rush forward and overtake him. The entire span of events from the night before seemed to want to attack him all at once. Random of flashes of teeth and claws and the moon a deadly red mixed with teasing conversations and suppressed laughs. He could feel his heartbeat and breathing pick up as he took a step back, running into the wall. He remembered both the times that Derek had thrown him against the wall when they had first met and when the She-wolf had tossed him to the ground like a discarded toy. Stiles knees gave out and he slid down the wall.

It was always the worst part about this, where the memories mixed and the happiest times were replaced with a sudden feeling of fear and helplessness. This persisted for an indefinable amount of time until he final got control of his own mind. He couldn't say he hadn't been expecting this, but he was extremely glad that he'd been able to keep it off until he was alone.

Stiles stood on shaky legs and moved to the living room couch. Turning the TV on for mindless background noise because suddenly the silence of the house had become deafening. It wasn't long after that Stiles heard a car pull up into his drive and footsteps walking up to the door. Stiles allowed them to knock before he opened the door. He should allow them to at least act like nothing changed. Erica was front and center, a large smile on her face, and Boyd and Isaac at her back. "Hey, Hun." She greeted brightly, maybe a little too brightly for normal Erica standards. "Heard you had a rough night. Care for some company?"

Stiles smiled at the three of them. He could feel his newly awakened wolf inside him stirring, liking the prospect of company, of pack. "Yeah, company would be great." He said. "So, did Derek tell you anything?"

"Not really. Asked if we would come hang out with you for a while and told us he might be a little late for the meeting tonight. Why, do you know what he's doing?" There was a hopeful expression on her face like the prospect of more information made her close to ravenous.

Stiles shrugged noncommittally and asked, "You guys want some snacks?" as he stepped aside to let them in.

"Definitely." Boyd answered and Isaac nodded while Erica just huffed past and claimed the large arm chair without answering. Stiles disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned with three bags of different chips and set them on the coffee table.

"So, what did you guys want to do, then?" Stiles asked taking the seat left open for him at the end of the couch next to Isaac.

"Brought a movie." Body answered, pulling out a DVD case and handing it to Stiles. Glancing at the title he saw it was some Sci-fi thriller and it looked pretty new. Stiles put it in and pressed play before settling in. He was out before the beginning credits rolled.

_The Alpha Pack was back and they were after him. Again he was in the warehouse, but this time the people taken captive were those dearest to him. The burly blonde held his dad, poised to break his neck at any second for any reason Stiles would give him. The twins held Scott down and even with his werewolf powers; he was no match for two Alphas. Kali, the Indian Goddess, was standing tall and center, holding his mother. It registered that that couldn't even be possible because his mother was dead, but it also didn't seem to matter. Stiles tried to move forward, tried to speak out, to taunt the wolves. Maybe he could convince them to take him instead. But he found that he couldn't move, couldn't speak. He was helpless. _

_"How does it feel? To be so powerless," said She-wolf. "You may be an Alpha like us, but you are weak. Do you know why that is?" She stopped as if waiting for an answer that Stiles could not give. _

_In his head he listed off the reasons that he didn't measure up. He's inexperienced, can't control even the change, can't even protect the people he loves from creeps like her. Of course she couldn't hear any of his inner dialogue so she continued unhindered._

_"Your weakness stems from your loyalty to your friends." Stiles threw a confused look her way. _

My friends are the best part of me,_ he thought. Apparently she disagreed. _

_"You care so much about them. The thing is no matter how much you think you love someone, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges too close." The She-wolf extended her claws and sunk them into the flesh of his mother's throat and tore it open. Her body fell to the ground with a sickening sound. Stiles cringed away, but his feet were still frozen where they were. His mother was already dead, but seeing her body at Kali's feet was even worse because Stiles couldn't help but think, _I'm the reason she's there, the reason she's dead.

_As the blood pooled and grew and started moving towards him, Stiles wished he could step away, even though it would just prove that she was right. The only thing that kept him in place was the immobility of the dream. Pulling his eyes from the body on the ground he forces himself to meet the psycho wolf's eyes. _What do you want? _he thought._

_The laugh that she let out was even more evil than the first time they met. She moves forward, grabbing his arms tightly and pulling him to her. "I want you to know how powerless you are," she whispered in his ear and her voice was like poison hot in his veins. "Stiles."_

"Stiles? Stiles. Stiles!" Erica was shaking him awake practically screaming in his ear. "You were having a bad dream," she told him as he blinked blearily up at her, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes. Stiles thought back to the images of Scott and his father held down by the Alpha pack. Thought about his mother lying dead at the feet of a psychopathic werewolf.

"Bad dream? Yeah, that's an understatement," he said trying to laugh it off. Shouldn't worry them right now. It was probably nothing, an after effect of the panic attack. Looking at the slightly worried faces of the werewolves in his living room he laughed again. "Seriously guys, nothing new. I'm all good." His eyes caught the end credits of the movie scrolling down the screen. "Missed the movie, huh?" he asked, changing the subject. The others probably took it as his ADD kicking in and Erica actually rolled her eyes.

"Derek texted. He said we need to be there at five instead of six." Boyd said grabbing a handful of chips and sitting back in the chair. "He didn't specify why, but said to bring pizza."

Stiles nodded through a yawn. "So are we better get going if we're getting pizza or we'll be late." At the confused looks the others were throwing him he added. "The Pizza Place takes forever to make pizza."

"We could always hit up The Other Place," Erica countered. "I like their sauce."

Stiles scrunched his face in disgust. "Uh, no. We're going the That Pizza Place," he affirmed.

"But you just said it would take-" Erica tried, but Stile held up his hand. The universal sign for 'stop now before you make a fool of yourself.'

"I know what I said, but The Other Place sucks. Their sauce is too sweet and they never put enough cheese on the pizza and their crust is like cardboard. That Pizza Place may take a while, but that's because you can't rush perfection. Now move, I'll drive."

Isaac looked confused. "Why? We could just run with us. You're a wolf now remember?"

"True, but we're going to be carrying like 15 pizzas. It would be a bit hard to run with that," Stiles reminded him.

"Right," Isaac said the adorkable smile back on his face. "I'll see you guys at Derek's then." And with a little wave, he set off.

"I'm going to go with him," Boyd said, looking off in the direction Isaac had left. "Derek said for no one to go anywhere alone." Then he was off too.

"Sooooo, looks like it's just you and me Catwoman. Ready to go fetch some pizza?" Stiles asked, offering his arm.

Erica happily liked her own arm through. "Really, Stiles? Still with the dog jokes. Even though you're one of us?"

Stiles offered a wide smile. "I told you, dog jokes will never not be funny."

As expected the line was long as hell, but the place smelled divine, as usual. So Stiles really had no qualms about waiting as he and Erica found a bench to sit on. After about ten minutes of her throwing 'subtle' looks at him as he not so subtly tried to ignore, he was beginning to second guess his assessment of the situation. "We probably should have just asked for delivery," he said finally, trying to defuse some of the unspoken tension.

"And asked them to deliver where? The decimated house in the middle of nowhere where a bunch of people burned to death. Yeah, no, they'd never even come."

"It's not so bad now. I mean, we've sort of been rebuilding it. We've got a new porch," Stiles pointed out. "And we've taken out a lot of the debris."

"So, I heard you told your dad about us yesterday," Erica said bluntly, ignoring Stiles skilled attempt at keeping the conversation carefully away from this exact topic. "How did that go?"

Stiles looked around to make sure no one was watching them before he sighed and bent forward running his hands through his hair. "I came home covered in blood and he interrogated me on every detail of the past eight months. How do you think it went?"

"Fair point," she conceded. "But Derek came after right? He talked to you? He didn't just leave you to take all this on by yourself did he?" Stiles looked up at her and where she usually wore a facade of over confidence and bravado, she actually looked slightly worried. Like she actually cared. It was a nice look on her, Stiles decided.

"Yeah, he came last night," Stiles offered her a small smile. "I actually accidently jumped him trying to get on my roof."

"Well, sounds like you two had a fun night." The caring look was replaced with very dirty interpretations.

"Oh my god, Erica! Not like that," Stiles gaped, offended. "You really think I'm that easy? One bad day and I'll throw myself at anybody with a pretty face?"

"You got to admit that body's not bad either," Erica teased.

Stiles didn't deny it. "Besides the point, the answer is no. We went back to the warehouse and we took another look at the bod- erm, the thing and found out that it wasn't mine."

"So, you didn't ki- get your Alpha. What does that mean?"

"More pointless blood shed? We don't know. Deaton's looking into it, but honestly no one has ever heard of turning back. Even Derek said he'd only heard stories."

"It's not pointless. It did get the Alphas out."

Stiles looked away again. He just didn't have the heart to tell her, after all they'd been through, that there was even worse to come. She'd find out later when she talked to Derek anyway. So instead of causing more problems, he didn't say anything. The silence stretched out for a bit before Erica spoke again.

"So, do you know why Derek is late tonight?"

Stiles smirked. "I might have some idea," he said, because having information that Erica doesn't and teasing her with it is fun.

"Aaaaaand? Are you going to tell me?"

"No."

"What? What not?"

"Because I'm not sure what he wants to tell you and plus, this is really something that he should tell you himself."

"And you know as well as I do that that means he's probably not going to tell us at all."

"No, this is different. He will." At Erica's skeptical look he added, "And if he doesn't then I promise I will, but I want to at least give him a chance."

There number was called and both of them stood together. "You know I could always make you tell me," She said, growling low and dangerous, but Stiles could feel the playful edge.

"Now, is that any way to talk to and Alpha?" Stiles asked sarcastically aghast.

"You may be an Alpha," she said laughing as she grabbed the tower of boxes off the counter, "but you aren't mine." She swaggered out the door with that and left him to pay for it all.

Probably be a shitty Alpha anyway, he thought has he slid his card across the counter.

They pulled up to the partially rebuilt Hale House at the same time as Jackson's silver Porsche cut him off. "Jackass," he mumbled under his breath knowing he could hear him because he could hear the asshole's laughter from his own car.

"You're just lucky the pizza is safe you asshat!" Stiles called as they climbed out of the car, his arms burdened with half a tower of pizza. He caught sight of Scott making his way to him like the good (hungry) friend he was.

"So, what'd you do this time, Sparky?" Jackson called as Scott was taking some of the pizzas so he could at least see over the top of the pile.

"Excuse me?" Stiles asked as soon as he could shoot Jackson a scornful look. As Jackson took a step forward he could feel Scott move up behind him at his back. Erica and Lydia, who had been in the car and had just now decided to come out, stood off to the side to watch things unfold. The fucking peanut gallery, really.

"Come on," Jackson spat, "every time we have to call a pack meeting it usually has something to do with you."

Stiles just rolled his eyes at the redundancy of his statement because it really was not Stiles' fault like ever even if it kind of was this time. Actually it was usually Scott's fault. Regardless, it seemed that even after the whole pack bonding and him not being a homicidal lizard, Jackson was still an ass. He could hear Scott starting to growl behind him. Turning from the obnoxious prat in front of him, he gave his friend a reassuring smile.

"Scott, it's cool. He was a prat before, he's a prat now. Nothing's changed. Let's just go eat."

"Wait, excuse me?" Jackson called after them as he and Scott brushed past towards the house. "I was a prat before what now exactly?"

"You're so cute when you're lost and confused. I see why Lydia likes you so much," Stiles threw over his shoulder as the couple followed them into the half constructed home. He probably would have pinched his cheek too if his arms weren't burdened with so much pizza.

"Stiles I swear to god if-" but Stiles never got to figure out what that threat was going to be because at that moment Derek strode into the room. Stiles swore that sometimes he lurked outside doorways and waited for just the right moment because no one could have that perfect of timing all the goddamn time.

Regardless, Derek's presence commanded all the attention in the room so that even Jackson knew it was time to shut up. Stiles could feel his aggravation (or maybe he smelled it, he wasn't quite sure how the things worked quite yet).

"So is this a normal post-full moon pack meeting or did something happen last night?" Lydia asked from the second hand armchair that she and Jackson had claimed.

Derek flipped open a random box and grabbed a slice of pizza. "Extra training actually."

"What?!" Jackson exclaimed. "But we just got rid of the Alpha pack. I thought we could get some down time."

"First off, WE got rid of the Alpha pack while you were, what did you call it, 'doing strategic patrol runs,'" Derek corrected. "And secondly, we have a new wolf here, so yes, extra training."

There was a second for that to sink in before Jackson's eyes locked straight on Stiles. "You're a werewolf?!"

"Surprise," Stiles said, not amused. "And you're still an ass," Stiles added as he risked grabbing a slice of pizza form the feeding frenzy that was their pack.

"I thought you didn't want to be like us. You had the whole 'holier than thou' thing with being human," he scowled like he couldn't believe they had to share the same genotype with him once again.

"No one would ever want to be like you. You're a Class-A Dick." Stiles retorted. "As for the whole werewolf thing, that wasn't in the plan. We're working on rectifying it."

"Right, because it's so great being human."

"Well, for one thing I would have another thing that separated me from you."

"Yeah, puts you just that much farther behind."

"You know what you pretentious douche, some of us don't have a superiority complex that needs fulfilling."

"And the rest of us normal-" Jackson started.

"You call this norm-" Stiles interrupted

"Enough ladies. You're both pretty," interjected Erica stepping into the space between them. "Look, let's just go do our training. You two can beat the shit out of each other that way." There were a few minutes of stillness as each party considered the offer.

"Fine," Jackson said sitting back in the chair with Lydia. "Don't have to hold back now, remember, so don't come crying to me when you're all bruised and bloody."

"We'll see," Stiles said, before grabbing a piece of pizza from a nearby box and walking out onto the porch. He'd had enough of Jackson for the moment.

A few minutes later, someone joined him. At first he thought it was Scott before the wind picked up and he caught the definite scent of Derek. "I'm really not great company right now," he said preemptively.

"No one really is after talking to Jackson," Derek granted sliding up next to him to casually lean against the banister. "But then I'm never really good company so..." Derek shrugged leaving the comment open.

"That's not entirely true," Stiles contended, earning him a raised eyebrow. "I mean, when you're not being a big Sourwolf and use words with more than one syllable," he teased as he took a bite of his pizza. "So you gonna give me any extra tips to kick Jackson's ass in training?"

"Sure, though I'm sure you won't need them. Just trust your instincts. You're already stronger than him and he doesn't even know it."

"That all?"

"His right side is weak in defense," he added slyly moving away from the railing as the others started streaming out of the house.

"I hope you're not playing favorites," Boyd said as he joined Derek by his side. "I would hate to give Jackson any excuse when Stiles mops the floor with him."

"Don't worry. I won't need any excuses when I kick his ass up and down this field. You ready?" Jackson asked smugly.

Boyd shrugged, but Stiles caught the grin he tried to hide. Turning his attention back to the jackass in front of him Stiles noticed that he was removing his shirt for some reason. "Um, is there a dress code for these kinds of fights that I don't know about?"

"It keeps your shirt from getting ruined by claws," Scott said beside him, helping him out of his hoodie. "We heal, but it's a pain to have to keep buying new shirts."

"That makes sense," Stiles agreed, peeling off his own top.

He felt a bit silly standing in the middle of the group without his shirt until he heard Erica off to the side say, "Damn, and I thought you'd be all elbows and knees."

"Yeah, who knew you were actually kind of built," Isaac commented as well.

"Well, thanks guys," he said with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

Derek stepped up on his side that Scott was not occupying. "Alright so you already know that your heart rate is directly linked to the change, the key is to control your heart rate. We can work on fine tuning later, for this exercise, we'll just start with surprising the change out of you."

"Um, right so how are you going to do that if you're telling me-" Stiles almost missed the small nod that Derek gave to Jackson before the boy was literally on top of him, fangs bared and claws out.

Just as Derek had said he let his instincts come out and the resulting action had Jackson being thrown into a tree with force enough to snap off a few low branches with an audible crack.

"What the FUCK was that, Stilinski?" Jackson called, pulling himself off the ground. There were a few bouts of low laughter from the spectators standing around the clearing. Stiles shrugged with an innocent expression that probably didn't work too well with his features all wolfed out.

"Sorry, you surprised me. I was just working on instinct."

"Right," Jackson said cautiously stealing a look at the amused faces of the others surrounding the clearing.

"What's the matter, Jackson?" Boyd asked, still at Derek's side. "Second guessing your abilities?"

"No, of course not," Jackson cried indignantly.

"Good," Derek said, hiding a grin of his own. "Now again."

* * *

_**Derek a police officer? I like the sound of that actually, but he has a point, there is a lot of training involved in that and not that he couldn't do that, but where would he find the time with monsters attacking the town all the time. It always bothered me that people kind of just threw Derek into being a cop even though I do like the idea, I'm just trying to be realistic I guess. Ha realistic in a story about werewolves. That sums me up pretty well.**_


	4. Insomnia for Beginners

"A god damn Alpha. Fuck! You guys are all dicks!" exclaimed Jackson as he collapses to the ground. It's the first time in about an hour that it isn't due to Stiles personally putting him there.

"Yeah, payback's a bitch, huh?" Stiles laughed smirking as he twist open the cap of the water bottle Isaac had brought out to him.

"Fuck you" was the only response he got, causing a bit of water dribble down his chin and bare chest as he tried to continue drinking while he stifled another laugh.

"My. My, don't you look good," a familiarly haunting voice sounded from the direction of the house. Standing the back door was the figure of none other than Derek's Uncle Peter. "Honestly you should wear better clothes, Stiles. I never knew you sported such a fine figure."

"Ugh, why don't you just stay dead?" Stiles called, pulling his shirt back on.

"How rude. And after I came all this way just to help you," Peter tisked.

Stiles couldn't remember a single time that Peter had actually been any help to them, especially without a hidden agenda of his own. Stiles didn't trust Peter as far as he could throw him and was about to tell him as much before Derek stepped forward.

"Peter, why are you back?" After the whole incident with Peter coming back from the dead and then 'helping' Derek with his Kanima problems deal, peter had gone MIA for the past few months that Derek and the rest of them had been dealing with the Alpha pack. He was almost sure that Derek didn't really trust Peter right now either, but the man was his only family so he probably thought he should at least hear him out.

"I was up in Canada when I heard through some of my channels about you and the Alpha pack and then what happened to Stiles, so I thought that I'd come back down and offer my assistance in the matter."

"Why would you come back now? You knew the Alphas were coming and you left. Why come back now?" Derek questioned.

"Because I thought you could handle it on your own," Peter drawled, "but apparently you can't and now Stiles has been bitten and you've managed to piss off a bunch of dangerous people. Derek, you need my help."

"Derek doesn't need your help," Stiles interjected, a growl underlying his tone. "We're doing fine without you."

"Derek is the Alpha here. He can make his own decisions." Peter stared down at Stiles like he was some underling that had over stepped his space.

"Don't you pull rank on me." This time the growl was outright and he could feel his eyes flashing red on instinct.

Peter looked shocked for about half a second before he regained his composure, that freighting grin back on his face. "Now I see how this is going. Derek you are one to make quick work of things you want." He gave Derek a sly look.

"It's not like that," Derek snarled. "When they bit him he killed one of them."

"Ahh, I see." Peter actually looked a bit disappointed. "Ah well, more for me."

Stiles stared at the two, trying to figure out what was going on. "Right," Stiles said even more confused than before, "I'm starting to get creepy uncle vibes from you so I'm moving over there. Derek, I'm sure you can handle this on your own."

"Oh, don't be that way," Peter called as Derek dragged him away.

"We're fininshing this conversation in the house," Derek grumbled.

Apparently seeing that Stiles was done talking to Creepy Uncle Peter, Scott came running up to him practically tackling him to the ground as he chattered happily on about how awesome it was that Stiles had kicked the shit out of Jackson. Apparently he was completely oblivious to what just happened or he was just being a good friend and trying to distract him.

"Yeah, I guess I'm a quick learner," Stiles was saying, pulling himself out of his own thoughts. "Hey, do you think we could try tracking next?"

Scott laughed. "Tracking's a bit harder than fighting. It's like really hard."

"Scott, I'm saying this as a friend, but a lot of things are hard for you."

"No really, even Boyd had trouble with it when he started. And he's the best at like everything."

"Well, Derek already gave me some pointers on the whole smell thing and I really want to get all these super senses under control. Come on. It'll be fun, like tag when we were younger."

Stiles gave Scott a hopeful expression to which Scott was resistant to for about two seconds before he caved. See, Stiles can do puppy eyes too. Of course, it helps that he's part puppy now.

"Hey, Derek," Scott called to Derek who was almost to the house, Peter in tow, "I'm taking Stiles out to practice tracking."

Derek nodded his agreement. And Boyd called back, "Scott's an easy mark. I'll be out later after you've warmed up to give you some real pointers." Stiles laughed and Scott shot him a glare.

"I'm sure you'll be a great teacher," he amended still stifling his laughs and Scott's glare reduced significantly.

Scott was an easy mark though. Boyd hadn't been lying about that. He was so loud Stiles could have probably found him even without enhanced hearing. "Scott are you making this easy for me on purpose." He asked as he snuck up behind his best friend trying to hide behind a large tree.

"Jesus, Stiles." Scott said, placing a hand over his heart as if it could quite the sudden up take. "Could you please make some noise so you don't kill me next time you sneak up on me?"

"Um, Scott, the whole point of sneaking up on people is for them not to hear you. It's something that you should probably learn seeing as you are the easiest person to find like ever."

"Hey, I was just going easy on you because it was your first time." Scott pouted. "This time I'll be super ninja quite. Then we'll see how easy it is for you to find me."

Stiles stopped him before he could run off into the woods again. "Better idea. See if I can hide from you?"

"What? Why? I thought you were practicing tracking."

"Yeah," Stiles said with a smile. "But this is more fun. Come on, please?"

Scott thought about it for a minute, before relenting. "Alright, I'll give you a thirty second head start."

Stiles' grin widened. "K, tag you're it." Stiles ran, nosily at first and when he thought he'd gone far enough, he stopped, changed directions, and moved much more silently and carefully in a whole other direction. He did some zigzagging movements and some false trails. He was feeling very good about himself as he came to a nice clearing by a lake. It was small and surrounded with a dense thicket of trees, but there was a nice sense of calm that Stiles found acutely alluring.

Stiles wasn't quite sure how far he'd gone into the woods and had no idea where exactly he was, but he was ok with that. Scott would find him soon and then they'd make their way back. Stiles glanced up at the sky. Judging by the height of the sun (which he had a clear view of from his perch atop a large boulder by the lake) he'd been out for quite some time. He could use a rest. So he stretched out on top of the large rock and soaked in the last remaining rays of the sun.

Stiles hadn't noticed that he fell asleep, but he definitely noticed waking up. And he also noticed that he was no longer alone. He could hear their shallow breathing and the steady beat of their heart. (Which, yeah, wow that was still really strange.) The first thought was that the Alphas were back already and he was in the middle of berating himself for being so stupid as to fall asleep in the middle of the woods where no one knew where he was when the stranger laughed. It was a deep, chuckling laugh, but it put him at ease because the laugh was familiar. Not common, familiar.

"You know, when you're trying to pretend to sleep, you should at least remember to breath." Derek said, looking down at him as he pried his eyes open.

"And did you know that it's extra creep to watch people while they're sleeping." Stiles countered his voice still rough with sleep. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "What time is it anyway?"

"Night." Derek said in his 'I'm being funny voice' which would be a deadpan to anyone else, but there was always a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth that gave him away.

"Right, thanks. That was helpful." Stiles snarked back. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"Scott couldn't find you. He thought the Alphas got to you. He was freaking out so I came after you." Derek summarized. "Nice trail, by the way. A bit tricky to follow at points."

"Uh, thanks." Stiles said, turning his face away hoping the night would hide his blush. Stiles was pretty sure Derek didn't give out compliments like that often and it made him feel really accomplished. Like he was actually getting somewhere with this whole wolf thing. "So, um, we should probably get going, huh? To tell the rest of the pack I'm not, ya know, dead or anything?"

"I like coming out here sometimes. It's quite, peaceful. It's a nice escape." Derek said, not making any move. Stiles, just nodded. Derek really did look at peace here and it's not often that he looks like that. They stayed there for another couple minutes before Stiles started getting restless again.

"I guess we should get going now." He said standing before offering Stiles a hand up. They made their way to the other end of clearing and into the forest in the direction that the house was in. Or at least Stiles guesses. He trusted Derek's sense of direction much more than he trusted his own.

They walked for a long while before Derek broke the silence again. "You're not alone in this." He said, not even looking back at him.

Stiles, completely sidelined by the statement, let out an intelligible, "Um, what?"

Derek stopped and turned to face him. "You're not alone. You have a pack. We care about you. We want to help you. You don't have to deal with this on your own."

"Ok, I know that, but why are you telling me this?" Stiles asked confused.

"Because you have tendency to take on problems that are bigger than yourself and then not ask for help until the last second." Derek's gaze was serious and intense. "I don't want you to wait until it's too late this time."

"I won't."

"So, tell me what's going on. How are you really taking all of this? No sarcasm, just honestly, tell me what you're feeling."

"I don't know. I don't feel anything."

"Nothing? At all?"

Stiles huffed out in aggravation. Why was Mr. Emotionally Constipated suddenly wanting to talk about feeling now of all times. Of all the times he tried to get Derek to talk and he chooses now. The one time, no. It just pissed Stiles off. "Well, what do you want me to say Derek?" Stiles asked throwing his arms up in the air. "That I'm afraid? Because I am Derek. I'm always afraid. Afraid that some psycho with a gun or some scary monster with fangs will kill my dad. I'm afraid that I'll be off on some werewolf business and I won't come back and that I'll leave him alone, just like my mom did. I'm afraid that one time I won't be able to save everyone and that I'm going to lose you all. That I'll have to live with the guilt that something I did caused someone close to me to- to-"

"Stiles I-"

"No, don't, because you know what? There's something stronger than that fear, Derek. It's stronger than the guilt and the pain and all the bad stuff I've seen and done in the past few months. And I can't even put a name to it, but it's there. Fear is not a gentle thing, but this thing, this piece of me that can't bear to let you, any of you, go into danger without me being sure that you'll all be coming back to me, it's so much stronger than any of that. So, yes Derek, I'm afraid, but not once since meeting all of you and getting dragged into this crazy messed up world, have I ever really felt alone."

The two were silent for a long moment; both watching the other, sizing them up. Derek surprisingly was the first to break the silence. "I just want to make sure you're safe," he said turning around and continuing to walk in the direction of the house.

Stiles broke into a smile. He couldn't help it. Sometimes Derek was just so, dare he say it, adorable. A few quick steps put him just close enough to wrap his arms around the werewolf's broad shoulders, squeezing them tight. "I know, Sourwolf," he said affectionately as the tension eased a bit between them. "I know you do."

It took several minutes for them to pry Scott off of Stiles when they finally made it back to the Hale house. Apparently Scott had searched for him for two whole hours before Boyd had found him. (He'd actually been coming out to help train Stiles like he said he would. That's why Boyd was so awesome.) Unfortunately he had found Scott hysterically babbling about how Stiles had just disappeared. Derek was ultimately the one who had to search for him because Scott was too busy getting in Boyd's way for him to actually do anything.

"I should have you go out next time we practice scenting," Derek was saying as the rest of the pack finally started filing out to the cars. "They might learn a thing or two." Stiles almost thought he saw Derek smirk in Jackson's direction as the duchewolf shot him a glare.

"Right, well, while the Tracking Genius was taking a nap, we had to deal with two hysteric werewolves so thanks for that." Lydia snarked, squinting her eyes at Stiles like it was entirely his fault. And hey, he may have had something to do with it, but it was Scott who could track worth-

"Wait, two wolves?" Stiles asked turning to Lydia.

"Oh, Derek didn't tell you?" she asked in fake shock, but her smile proved she loved every second of this. "Yeah, Derek was frantic when Scott said you'd been taken by the Alphas; almost worse than Scott himself. So forgive us if we're a little eager to get out of here." With that exiting line in place, she slid gracefully into the passenger seat of the Porsche and they were off.

"Remind me again why they are part of the group." Erica was watching the taillights disappear into the darkness with a disgusted look on her face.

"Because Derek's too good of a person to kick people out just for being an asshole," Isaac answered.

"Yeah, Wouldn't want to be hypocritical now would you Derek?" Stiles called teasingly from where he was unlocking the door of his own Jeep. Derek's scowl just made Stiles' smile grow wider as he hopped up into the driver's seat. "Aw, lighten up Sourwolf. I know under that stubble you're actually a big cuddly puppy dog." He took the answering growl as his cue to leave, but his laughter carried with him down the drive to the main road.

The blaring alarm the next morning brought with it a startling revelation. Stiles had school today. Ok, so it wasn't a genius epiphany or even something new, but that's what made it so startling. For all the crazy shit he had been put through, all the hell he had to deal with, still people expected him to go to school like none of it mattered. Thankfully that worked for him.

Stiles pulled himself from his cocoon of blankets and slammed his hand down on the snooze button to shut off its incessant screaming. He'd figure out how to silence it more permanently when he was more awake and capable of dealing with it. It was a few minutes later, when Stiles had found the drive to remove himself from his warm bed and was pulling some clothes from a drawer, when his father appeared in the doorway. Stiles sighed. It wasn't that he wasn't expecting it, but he'd hoped his dad would've at least waited until he'd gotten downstairs to ambush him.

"You don't have to go in today," his dad said. The undertone was not missed. He obviously didn't think that him going in today was a good idea, but it was like he was trying to give Stiles the choice.

"I know, dad. I want to go. Have to keep up appearance, right?" Stiles put on a wide, sleepy smile. The kind that inspired trust and acceptance. Or at least, Stiles hoped.

It seemed to be working because his dad seemed a bit more hesitant. "I mean is it really such a good idea though?" he was saying. "Wouldn't help appearances much if you mauled someone in the parking lot, now would it?"

"Wow, dad, can we just, I don't know, wait until I'm actually functional and not dead on my feet?"

"I think we should talk about this n-" his dad protested, but Stiles was not hearing it.

"Out. Out!" he said, pushing him out of the room and closing the door behind him. He waited a few more minutes until he could hear his dad go downstairs and start moving around in the kitchen before pushing off the door and finishing collecting his clothes.

The shower he took wasn't too long, but Stiles wouldn't deny that he may have stood under the spray's warmth a little longer than was absolutely necessary. As he made his way down stairs, a little damp and in fresh clothes, Stiles came upon a frightening sight. His father, the sheriff, was making breakfast. Like, he was at the stove probably over cooking the eggs at the stove and had what looked like the failed beginnings of pancake batter shoved off into the corner. If the impending doom of the conversation he knew he was going to be having with this man wasn't enough to scare him, the impending doom of having to eat his cook might have done the trick.

"Um, dad," Stiles asked cautiously edging his way into the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I have the afternoon shift, so I thought I'd make breakfast." The cheery smile on his dad's face was overly forced and even Stiles could note the tension behind it.

"This doesn't have anything to do with somehow bribing me into not going to school today does it?" he asked. "Because your cooking is really counterproductive in that area."

His dad's smile faltered and when it came back it wasn't nearly as wide or as cheerful (which was actually a relief because that look had been really scary on his dad's face). "Look son, I understand that this is all old news to you and you probably don't see how going to school could…" His dad paused looking for the right words.

"End in total disaster?" Stiles supplied.

"Exactly." His dad walked over to the table where Stiles was currently hovering and set a plate of eggs and what looked to be the rest of the bacon from yesterday down at his usual spot. Stiles carefully made his way over to the table to sit as his father continued. "I just- I'm not used to this whole idea of, um, werewolves and supernatural creatures. I left you home alone yesterday, but I was really hoping that-"

"You hardly left me alone yesterday," Stiles interrupted. "Actually, I have had one moment of alone time since this whole thing happened. Also, in case you've forgotten, I won't be alone at school either. I'll be surrounded by people."

"People that you could potentially hurt," his father agued.

"And a pack that will stop me before I even try," Stiles countered.

There was a tense silence as the two stared each other down, neither one willing to give in that the other was right. _Stubborn Stilinski trait_, Stiles thought to himself.

The staring contest was only broken when Stiles phone beeped, telling him he had a text. Stiles pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

**_From: Scott_**

**_ To: Stiles_**

_ Dude are you still picking me up today or am I running?_

"I have to get going. I'm going to be late." Stiles said, grabbing his bag from the floor.

"Stiles, I just want what's best for you," his dad said following him to the door as Stiles grabbed his keys.

"Yeah, I know it's just, with everything going to hell around me, I need something normal." Stiles hesitated, his hand on the door knob, and looked back at his dad. "Can I at least pretend to be normal."

Another round of staring ensued, but this time lacking in the malice and need to be right. This connection was one of understanding, or at least the attempt to understand one another. "I want you back right after school. You're grounded still remember. No dilly-dallying with Scott you hear."

"I thought you were joking about that." Stiles proclaimed, but couldn't find it in himself to be as affronted as he should be.

"Hey, you're the one who said you wanted normal."

"Yeah, I know. Be careful what you wish for." He mumbled as he turned the knob and left the house. Once he got to his jeep he sent off a message to Scott.

**_From: Stiles _**

**_To: Scott_**

_ Got held up by dad. Be there soon._

When the two finally made it to school the late bell was just ringing. Even though they were outside the building, it was piercingly loud to Stiles.

"Uhg, god," Stiles exclaimed, covering his ears. "How do you deal with that all day?" he asked turning to Scott.

"Uh, mostly you just try to ignore it. The first week I tried to put ear plugs in, but then I was missing half the things other people said so it's not the best solution." Stiles shot his best friend a forlorn look. "Don't worry Stiles. We'll find your Alpha and you'll be back to normal before you know it."

"Yeah, 'cause our plans always work out exactly as we want them to." Stiles said sourly.

"As long as Derek doesn't kill the Alpha first."

"Scott come on. Derek's apologized for that already. How long are you going to hang that over his head?"

"How long are you going to keep taking his side?"

"I'm not taking his side. I'm just saying, it's done. You can't change the past. Derek made the decision and these are the results. Can we move on?"

"But look at what happened! He became an Alpha and turned four teenagers and one of those teenagers turned into a homicidal lizard controlled by a homicidal stalker who had a crush on my girlfriend. Is that what you call a good outcome?" Scott asked as they made their way to class.

"No, but think about the other options. What if it hadn't worked and you became an Alpha. Then not only would more hunters be after you, but you would have all these instinct things to make a pack and maybe you would have gone crazy and Chris would have had to kill you. At least now Chris is sort of on our side in the whole not killing us on site business and you can still date Allison. It may not be the best outcome, but it's definitely not the worst that could have happened."

"I wouldn't have gone crazy," Scott countered as they made it to their first period English class.

"I know bud, I was just making a point." Stiles said clapping his friend on the shoulder before walking onto class.

The rest of the day was pretty much what you'd expect a Monday to be like. Everyone was putting the bare minimum of effort to get through the day so they could get home and do nothing. By lunch, Stiles was absolutely exhausted. Like about ready to collapse into the sludge the school dared call food and feed them for lunch.

"Hey Stiles, you're not looking so hot. Did you sleep at all last night?" Isaac asked a concerned look on his face.

"Yeah, dude, I'm fine," Stiles assured him. "Just Monday, ya know?"

"Yeah, I hear you," Isaac agreed. "I had a test in Psych that I'm pretty sure I failed. Who gives a test on Monday?"

"The Devil, that's who."

The conversation went like that for most of lunch, drifting from one topic to the next, all of them acutely aware of the subject they were all avoiding. When lunch ended, Stile proceeded through his other classes in a half daze kept awake only by the efforts of the rest of the pack. Finally he was in his second to last class, the only class he didn't share with one of the pack members, and to top it off it was Advanced Calculus. There was nothing in this class that could possibly keep him from dozing off. Normally, he might have a chance, but the truth was that Stiles hadn't slept well the night before.

In fact, since the nightmare he'd had when he'd passed out on the couch, Stiles hadn't had a peaceful moment of rest yet. Every time he closed his eyes, Stiles saw the crazy Alpha pack hovering over his incapacitated friends and family. Sometimes the way Kali killed them was new an inventive and sometimes she just slashed their throats letting them bleed out in front of him, but one thing was always the same. At the end of the dream, she would always walk over to him, where he was stuck, unable to move or cry out or help in any way, and she would lean down and whisper in his ear, "Don't worry, Sparky. We'll be seeing you real soon. Then we can do this in person." Stiles woke up with her laughter still in his ears.

In fact, he woke up so violently that his failing threw him out of his desk and onto the floor. This was much to the delight and humor of his classmates.

"Well Mr. Stilinski," his old crone of a teacher said trying to smother his own laughter, "I guess that'll teach you to sleep in my class." Stiles pulled himself back into his seat as a pop quiz was handed back to him.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Stiles mumbled and ducked his head, choosing to focus on his test rather than the other kids, some of whom were still laughing at him under their breath. By then end of the class everyone had pretty much forgotten about his little episode and Stiles had the only 100% in the class.

* * *

**Stiles, you're so strong. He also really does have a way with words I think. Or at least better than Derek does. But now he's not sleeping well. That bitch Kali messing with his head and such. It cannot be pleasant. I'll have to make sure he see someone about that. Ah, next chapter then.**


	5. Who Follows if Everyone Leads?

"You say you've been having these dreams for how long?" Deaton asked, shining yet another bright light into his eye.

"Since after the incident with the Alphas," Stiles revealed begrudgingly. It had only come out by accident that Stiles was having the nightmares in the first place. God damn Stiles and his big mouth. Actually, god damn Isaac and his big fucking mouth. If Isaac hadn't expressed his worry for Stiles' health then he wouldn't have been here in the first place. Sure Stiles may not have been sleeping well (or at all really), but that didn't mean Isaac had to go tell Derek that he wasn't doing well. Especially when Derek had then literally dragged Stiles to his car and thrown him in as soon as school had let out. God only knows the shit he was going to get from Coach Finstock for missing practice. Of course the blame was also a little bit on him. If he had avoided Derek's calls and texts for the past three days then maybe Derek wouldn't have to have come down to the school in the first place.

Regardless of who was to blame for his current situation, Stiles was giving Deaton the barest details of his last week or so of bad dreams in hopes of making it seem like it wasn't as big a deal as it seemed. "I figured it was PTSD and would go away in a bit."

Deaton looked less convinced. "I don't think that's what this is Stiles."

"Oh, come on. It has to be. Like the time with Gerard. It'll go away in a couple of weeks. I'll be fi-"

A growl emanated from the corner where Derek was currently lurking. It startled Stiles because he had forgotten that Derek was still there. (Apparently, he didn't trust Stiles to actually stay at the appointment or something. Not that Stiles had given him much reason to, but still.) "What time with Gerard?" he asked.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Stiles asked confused.

"What did Gerard do?" Derek all but growled.

"Are you telling me Erica and Boyd didn't tell you?"

"Must have slipped their mind between the running off to join another pack, getting captured and tortured by rouge hunters, and then the long recovery process after that. Why didn't _you_ tell me what happened?" Derek wasn't growling anymore, but the anger was definitely still there.

"Because that's what he wanted me to do," Stiles defended. "Gerard was a ruthless bastard, but he was also really smart. He beat me up and told me to tell you where your betas were. If I would have done that, you would have rushed off and walked right into a trap. So, instead I went home. I lied to my dad and I figured out the best way I could help you instead of sending you to your death."

"You thought none of this was important to tell me after?!"

"No, Derek I didn't."

"And why not?"

"Because, you're like a damn cocked gun and I wasn't going to give you any more ammo."

"God dammit Stiles, it's not your decis-" Derek started.

"Hate to interrupt your little domestic," Deaton said casually walking in between the two of them, book open in his hand, "but we have more pressing issues than what Stiles did or did not do in some past event."

Derek turned away from Stiles slowly, focusing his intense glare on the vet. "And what is that?"

"These dreams you're having Stiles, they aren't just dreams. They are images that the Alphas, you're Alpha particularly, is putting into your mind. They are searching your mind for your greatest weakness and exploiting that. Your greatest weakness of course is that you don't think you can protect the people you care about"

"So, what can I do?" Stiles asked.

"Well, nothing," Deaton explained. "You will just have to wait for the connection to fade, but since it's your Alpha that's connected, it will take a bit longer too do that. Of course, you could just kill them like you were planning to anyways. That always works."

The off handed manner that Deaton talked about killing someone, even someone who could potentially kill him in return, was a bit off putting. It just reminded him of the kind of life he led now. Even he, the least willing of the bunch, had already taken another life. Even in the name of self-defense, the thought still brought an ugly feeling of guilt washing back over him.

"So, there are no magic herbs or anything that I can swallow and keep them out of my head?"

"Well, none that I know of." At Stiles exasperated sigh, he added, "You seem to forget that I do not have all the answers Stiles. I am just a vet after all."

"Yeah, and I'm the abominable snowman," Stiles snorted. "Fine, so we do nothing. Just like we have been doing." Stiles hopped off of the metal examining table. "Now, this has been fun and all, but I've got homework and an angry coach to deal with." Stiles looked over at Derek who was still sitting in the corner. He looked so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even seem to register Stiles attempt at a grand exit.

"Derek," he called getting the older man's attention. Derek's eye's flickered up to meet his. "Are you driving me back to my jeep or am I walking there?" Stiles asked a little testy. It was his fault after all that he was here for what turned out to be no reason.

"I'll drive you, just-" Derek turned to Deaton. "Since we're here, have you heard anything about the story I heard growing up? About killing your Alpha?"

"No," Deaton said arranging some medical looking things on one of the counters, "but, I'll keep looking. Don't worry."

With little more than a nod, Derek brushed past Stiles out the door.

"See you later, Doc," Stiles called waving behind him as he followed Derek out to the parking lot.

"Good bye, Stiles," the doctor called after him.

There was a tense silence between the two all the way to the school. Even though Derek wore his usual blank faced scowl default setting face, Stiles was beginning to pick up on some subtler things. Things like the way he was holding the steering wheel a tad too tight causing the knuckles to go red, but not yet white. Things like the way there was a small tick in his jaw whenever he turned right and Stiles was put in his line of vision. It was just small things that Stiles had never picked up on until he'd been forced into spending an unusual amount of time with the man.

Finally, about four blocks from the school, Stiles asked, "So, are you going to tell me what pissed you off or do I have to play the guessing game?"

"If you don't know by now you're not nearly as smart as I thought you were."

"Is it because I didn't take your phone calls?" he asked.

"That's part of it."

"Are you mad that I didn't tell you about Gerard?"

"Among other things."

"Are you mad because I didn't tell you I wasn't sleeping?"

"Yes."

"That's what got to you? Really? Derek, I never sleep. I haven't slept well since I started high school. I didn't think it was anything I needed to tell you. I'm a teenager, you seem to forget. It's sort of what we do," Stiles added trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't forget," Derek said, having none of that. "That's why it's all the more important that you tell people, tell me these things."

"Do you treat the whole pack like this," Stiles pouted in the passenger seat, "or are you just super neurotic when it comes to me?"

"You need to tell me everything, Stiles." Derek seemed to be ignoring everything that he says at this point. "You told me you wouldn't hide things and you hid the nightmares from everybody."

"Alright, fine. If I admit that I was an idiot will you please forgive me?"

"Stiles I'm not angry just because you kept something from me. You need to trust us. You don't trust us to take care of you and that's the problem." Derek's eyes flashed red as he turned another corner.

Stiles' shoulders slumped. "It's not that I don't trust you guys to take care of me, I know you will. I just don't like being a burden to other people."

"Stiles you are anything but a burden," Derek huffed. "You've helped every single member of this pack. Now you need to let us help you."

Stiles sighed and slumped lower in his seat. "Yeah, I guess you're right, but it's not like I'm going to change overnight and be all sharing and caring."

"I'm not asking you to change everything, just tell me when something happens. You're a new wolf and an Alpha to boot. Your change is going to be harder than any of the other's ok?"

"Yeah," Stiles agreed. "You have my word, from here on out I will try very hard to tell you everything and not hide anything else."

Derek pulled into the school's parking lot and pulled up next to Stiles' jeep. "Good and you better make sure you hold to it because I'm going to have the pack checking up on you."

"Fine I guess I deserve that." Stiles reached for the handle and opened the door to the Camaro. By now, the lacrosse players had already left and the sun was setting, dipping below the tree line causing the illusion of the forest on fire. As Stiles was about to get out Derek stopped him by asking, "Stiles, in the dream, what does the Alpha say?"

"Um, nothing much," Stiles says and he's about to leave it at that, but remembers the promise he'd made to Derek not two seconds ago. "What I mean is she mostly just parades the people I care most about in front of me and, um, then kills them. It's like Deaton said, my greatest weakness and all."

Derek's face goes hard like it does every time he has to shut off his emotions. "Is that all? She doesn't say anything?"

"The only thing she says at the end of the dream every time is 'I'll see you soon.' But we already knew she was coming back, right?" Stiles looked up at Derek, but Derek was looking away from him. "Derek, is there something you're not telling me?"

"No, it's just- it's nothing. Your dad'll be wondering where you are by now. You should head home."

"Right. I guess I'll see you later Derek." Stiles slides out of the seat and closes the car door behind him. He can feel Derek's eyes on him the entire time he pulled out his keys and started up the jeep. Derek didn't even start his car until Stiles was pulling out of the drive.

The rest of the way home Stiles tried to focus on remembering the homework he'd been assigned today, but still his thoughts kept drifting back to Derek. Stiles felt that it was a bit hypocritical that Stiles had to share everything with Derek, but Derek still felt the need to hide things from him. If Derek expected Stiles to trust him then Derek was going to have to trust Stiles as well.

Stiles was thinking this just as he turned on to his street. It surprised him that there were two police cars outside with their lights flashing. Stiles' first thought was that something had happened to his dad, but as he got closer he realized that his dad was one of the officers standing on the front lawn. Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief as he pulled into the driveway beside his dad's cruiser.

"What is all this?" Stiles asked as his dad was excusing himself from the other officers and making his way over to him. "Did something happen?"

"It's just a random break in," the sheriff assured him. "Unless, of course, there is something I should know." His dad gave him a meaningful look at this.

"You'll know when I do," Stiles said. His dad gave him an unconvinced look. "I'll sniff around a bit to make sure if that makes you happy." This earned him another unconvinced look form his dad, but the answer seemed satisfy him enough to walk back over to the other officers.

Stiles grabbed his bag from his jeep before making his own way up to the porch. He spotted the kicked in door and the scratches around the handle that looked like failed attempts at picking the lock. What Stiles didn't see was any evidence of claw marks or anything that spoke of supernatural strength. Of course, as Stiles had learned recently, sight wasn't everything.

Stepping over the threshold, Stiles took a deep breath through his nose taking in all the scents of the house. The smell of him and his dad were there, along with the familiar scent of aging wood and general _home_ smell that was there. Nothing seemed wrong which was, well, wrong.

If someone was here, even if they had just kicked in the door and left, Stiles should be able to smell them, right? That means that this must have been someone who knew how to cover up their scent and the only people who would even think of doing that were hunters and other wolves.

Frankly, Stiles didn't think the Argents were behind this which left the ever present Alpha pack lurking around. The problem was, if it was them, why would they go through the trouble of making it look like a break in? Why would they want to bring our little spat to the attention of the civilian population of Beacon Hills? It would have been just as easy to sneak into Stiles room through his window and no one would have been the wiser.

His room! Stiles was rushing up the stairs before he could take another breath. Pushing open his door, Stiles didn't even bother to turn on the light. His eyes skimmed over his shelves of books and his desk and floor and finally resting on his bed. Sitting in the center of his comforter, atop a very busted up laptop, was a small stuffed wolf. He picked it up off of the remains of his laptop.

The wolf was about six inches long and had jet black fur and bright red eyes. It reminded Stiles very much of the one and only time he'd seen a full Alpha form. It had been the night in the forest when he'd cocktailed Derek's uncle. It had been the first time Stiles had actually _seen_ what it was he'd be facing. Then Derek had slashed his throat and become the very monster that they had been fighting.

_And now you are too_, a small part of him whispered.

"Is anything amiss?" his dad's voice spoke behind him, startling Stiles out of his train of thought.

"Um, yeah. My computer. It's pretty busted." Stiles pointed to the wreck of electronic wiring and curit boards that used be his computer.

His dad gave him a thoughtful look. "A regular burgular would've just taken it. Is- is this them?" his dad asked, lowering his tone so the men on the floor below them wouldn't overhear them. There was no need really; they were far to consumed with their own conversation about baseball or something as far as Stiles could tell.

"I can't smell them." Again, it wasn't a lie, but Stiles didn't really want to tell half-truths at this point either. Not after so many lies. "I mean I can't smell anything out of the ordinary so I can't be sure."

His father looked at him for a little bit longer, like he was trying to gauge the honesty of his statement. "All right, I'll go tell the guys and we'll add it to the report." His dad moved to go back out on the hall.

"Dad," Stiles called stopping him.

"What?"

"Do you think the insurance will pay to replace my computer? It would really suck if they didn't."

A smile broke out across his dad's face. It was small, but it was there. Stiles smiled back. The sheriff walked out of the room laughing to himself and closing the door behind him.

Stiles stiffened, feet frozen where they stood. Smeared onto the back of the door in something dark was a symbol not unlike the treskelion that was tattooed onto Derek's back with one big difference. This symbol was sort of more angular, more aggressive than the swift curves of the symbol Derek wore.

Stiles, finally finding his feet, moved over to his bag that he'd thrown hazardously off the ground when he'd entered the room. Pulling out his phone, he tried Derek's number immediately. It rang for several minutes before going to voicemail. Stiles hung up before trying again immediately after. Again, there was no answer. Stiles growled. He didn't have time for this shit.

He stood up, flicking on the lights and taking a picture of the offending mark. He attached it to a text along with the message, _Does this mean what I think it does?_

It was agonizing minutes before he got a reply. When his phone buzzed, he jumped for it.

**_To: Stiles_**

**_ From: Derek_**

_ Where did you find this?_

Stiles texted back swiftly.

**_To: Derek_**

**_ From: Stiles_**

_ I found it on my bedroom door. Right after I found a small stuffed wolf on top of my demolished computer. _

After a bit of thought he added.

_I guess we know what they meant by soon now._

The reply this time was much quicker than it was before.

**_To: Stiles_**

**_ From: Derek_**

_ I need to do some things. I think you'll be safe for tonight, but maybe you should call some one. I'll handle this._

Stiles was typing before he'd finished reading the message.

**_To: Derek_**

**_ From: Stiles_**

_ No, you aren't going to go off and 'handle' this. Not after you told me we were in this together._

Stiles shot off several more like this, but Derek didn't answer him back. Stiles grew angrier with every unanswered text he sent. "God dammit," Stiles growled to the empty room.

There was a knock on the door and his dad walked in. Stiles turned to face him and his dad took a step back in shock.

"Um, ah, son," his dad motioned nervously, "Your face is all… um, wolfy."

Stiles looked away quickly, hiding his features from his dad. In the window, Stiles saw the squashed nose and elongated teeth that accompanied the change.

"Ah, sorry," Stiles apologized. "It's linked to the heart rate and well, Derek's kind of pissing me off right now." He took a deep breath to calm down.

"Lover's spat?" his dad asked.

"What?" Stiles asked, turning around to face him too shocked to care about his face. "Why would you think-"

"You know before you dropped the whole werewolf-bomb on me, I thought the big secret was that you had a new girlfriend that you just didn't want to tell me about," his dad said as he leaned against the door frame. "After the thing at the nightclub, I started thinking it was a guy you didn't want to tell me about. Then I hear reports about people seeing you hanging around town with Derek and going up to his house, I started to understand why you wouldn't want to tell me."

The words coming out of his dad's mouth made sense, but at the same time, Stiles couldn't fully be grasping their meaning correctly. His dad thought that he was dating Derek Hale?

"I don't see how that's even possible. Derek can't even stand me," Stiles informed his dad.

"That's not how it seemed to me."

"Well, sure it's gotten better recently after saving his for the n-th time, but honestly I think he just puts up with me because he finally has Scott in his pack."

"Stiles, I don't know if you're blind or just dumb, but I've seen you two together a total of three times and I'm just saying I'd rather you just tell me the truth."

"But I am!" Stiles insisted maybe a little too loudly. he waited for the men downstairs to start talking again before continuing at a lower volume. "There is nothing going on between me and Derek Hale. I swear."

His dad stared at Stiles like if he looked hard and long enough that he could make Stiles tell him the truth. But Stiles was telling him the truth.

Sure, Stiles can't deny having few (maybe more) Personal Stiles Time centered around just the thought of those muscles and how they would feel under his hands and wondering if Derek was as rough as his personality would suggest or if-

Yeah, that train of thought had to stop. The point was that there was nothing going on between the two of them in reality and Derek was far too out of Stiles league for that to ever change. So, his dad can go ahead and stare at him for as long as he wanted. It wasn't going to change the facts. Trust him, Stiles had tried. It didn't work with Lydia and it wouldn't work with Derek.

"Fine," his dad finally relented. "But if that changes, you better tell me. I have a gun and I know how to use it."

"Oh my god dad!" Stiles buried his face in his hands before standing up and pushing his dad out the door. "You can leave now, I'm going to go to bed now and forget that this conversation ever happened."

"Alright, alright, just," his dad looked Stiles straight in the face, "you do like guys though right?"

Stiles sighed and stopped pushing for a moment. "Yeah, dad. I do. I like girls too though. Guys and girls. Not that it matters, cause neither of them are interested in me."

"Right, sure" his dad nodded then allowed Stiles to push him the rest of the way out the door.

Stiles stood there for a few minutes staring at the dark black mark that was sullying his door. After a moment's deliberation, Stiles made his way to the kitchen to grab a scrub brush and some high-power cleaning spray. It took him a few hours of hard scrubbing, but when he finally did get into his bed, Stiles could barely make out the faint outline where the mark used be. Too bad that the absence of the mark didn't help his nightmares any.

* * *

**Sorry about the long time to update. This has actually been finished for a while and I'm sorry that I didn't update. I should make a schedule of some sort. I hope you like it. Please review.**


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